Kitty
by 2hot4lilly-kane
Summary: Bob was the first one to notice that they were real, the ears I mean, the one's sticking up from slits in my knit cap.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**:Kitty – Chapter 1  
><span><strong>Author<strong>: **geoffaree**  
><span><strong>Pairing<strong>:Bob/Mikey  
><span><strong>Rating<strong>:PG-13  
><span><strong>POV<strong>:First, Mikey's  
><span><strong>Summary<strong>:_Bob was the first one to notice that they were real, the ears I mean, the one's sticking up from slits in my knit cap._  
><span><strong>Disclaimer<strong>:Fake, oh so very, very fake.

Bob was the first one to notice that they were real, the ears I mean, the one's sticking up from slits in my knit cap. Everyone else at school just figured me for another of the anime freaks, like I sat in a corner everyday reading manga or something. Well, I did occasionally pick up a yaoi now and then, but really I was just not into that whole scene. But I guess when you go around 'wearing' cat ears people tend to make assumptions.

I transferred to this high school because it was the one furthest away from my middle school, and therefore I was less likely to run into people that maybe kinda, knew things about me. I get tired of girls petting me like I was some weird animal in a zoo.

Maybe I was.

Well, I learned my lesson about telling people my secrets. At least _this_ one, I refused to go back in the closet, it was hard enough getting out of it the first time; plus it's dark and kinda lonely in there. So, when a girl asked me out sophomore year, I just told her the truth about my love of dick. Well, not in so many words, I didn't wanna make her cry or anything, but I needed to be perfectly clear.

Anyways, back to the ears, I don't know how I got them; they've always just sorta been there. They're a slightly darker brown than my hair, with black tips. No I don't have human one's too, and I keep my hair longish to hide that fact. Some days I wear a hat that presses them down, so people don't see 'em every time I go to school; but I hate doing that. It makes me feel all twitchy and everything gets muffled.

I also have to hide the tail, oh did I not mention that? Sorry. Well, it's pretty long, I can almost wrap it around my middle twice. It's the same sandy color as my hair, with a black tuft at the end. I take a lot of care to keep it sleek and clean, guess I'm more like a cat than I want to admit. When I'm at school I have to hide it in a pant leg, which is uncomfortable and probably gave me away more than the ears to Bryar. In fact, I'm sure it did, 'cause he told me so himself.

I guess I should start from the beginning, less confusing that way. Well, first off my name is Michael, but I prefer Mikey and this story starts one rainy Tuesday in October; when Bob Bryar transferred in from Chicago and decided that I was worth paying some special attention to.


	2. Chapter 2

Kitty – Chapter 2

"Michael! Pay attention and follow the sheets, not your own little whims."

I scowled at the carpet, Mr. Colman was the worst conductor ever, and not just because he was a prick. No, he was just _bad_ at it. He handed out sheafs of music (all very simple 'cause we were _high school students_ and of course wouldn't be able to handle anything remotely complicated) and expected us to stick so completely to the papers that if we even went a tiny bit off course it was like blasphemy, or something.

I hated that.

I play bass, not guitar, but a big double bass, ska punk style y'know? I love how it sounds, all deep and vibrating in my ears, kinda tickles my soul, it's hard to explain. I could spend hours plucking out rhythms, just get lost in the flow. That's why I hate Mr. Colman's rigors, he didn't let the music flow through him, he just let it settle, brushing it away like an annoying gnat. I doubt there was a creative bone in his body.

It took me a while to save up for my bass, I worked a shift at one of the local Starbucks (who were oddly tolerant of the ear thing, they hire a lot of weird people there, so I guess my need to look like a cat wasn't too far up that list) a few summers back to get her. And I love her like a child, maybe more, I named her Aberrant, because I'm a nerd at heart and maybe a tad melodramatic. Aberrant has the most beautiful red and white rising sun graphic, and I take great pains to keep her shining and sounding just as wonderful as the day I rescued her from the shop.

I plucked along with the music, frowning at the black notes, fingers itching to go faster, make more of a melody. But before I lost to the impulses once more, there was a knock at the classroom door.

A boy with blond hair and slouched posture was hustled into the room by a flustered secretary.

"Mr. Colman, I have a new student for you." and without further ado she disappeared back to whatever was making her hair stick out in such an awfully messy manner; I hate messy hair.

The new guy sorta just studied the carpet, almost hiding behind his hair (which was beautifully clean and brushed out nicely) but not really, 'cause you could tell he was too cool for that. It was almost as if he could force people to ignore him rather than blending in himself, it was interesting to say the least.

Everyone was staring now, though the room could have been empty for all the attention he paid them. Only moving when Colman motioned him forward with an annoyed grunt and jerk of baton.

"What instrument?" trust nice, welcoming teacher to ask what the new boy played before his name. I snorted involuntarily, thankfully it was a quiet noise.

Not soft enough, apparently, 'cause I suddenly found myself being scrutinized by sharp blue eyes. It made me feel nervous and I wanted to pat down my hair or something, even though I knew it was in perfect shape under my hat. The feeling only lasted a few seconds, before there was a flash of smile and the guy was again facing Colman.

"Drums."

He voice had the same weird, ear-happy pitch as Aberrant, it kinda scared me a little; made me want to scratch at my head or curl up in a ball with my tail wrapped safely 'round.

Mr. Colman gave the guy a slight sneer, which wasn't so surprising, only the slackers and jocks played percussion. But before anything else could be said, the bell rang. And in the chaos that followed I quickly packed away Aberrant and bolted out that room as fast as I could. I needed to distance myself from that kid, not completely sure why, just that I _had_ to.

It was lunch next, thankfully, and I grabbed my brown bag outta my locker and headed for my regular table.

Frank was already there when I slipped into my seat. It wasn't as if I didn't have friends, I had lots. But they were all in-school, I didn't hang out with them outside of the state mandated hours. Except for Frankie that is, but only occasionally. We became friends mostly because we both shared similar special interests, and I'm not talking about music here.

"Hey Mikeyway, you look a bit pale. What's up?" he asked around a celery stick, a bit of peanut butter on the corner of his mouth made me feel twitchy; stupid cat tendencies.

"There's a new guy in my music class."

That got his attention,

"Ooh, is he hot?" I nodded before I could think better of it, I hadn't realized I was able to process information like that with so many other things racing through my head; but he was though, really fucking hot. I think that freaked me out just a little bit more.

Frank was about to barrage me with questions and pleas for details, I could tell 'cause you could almost see the excitement buzzing through him. Frankie could got excited about sleeping so I guess you never really knew.

He was interrupted though,

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" I didn't have to look up to know that voice, but I did anyway; cheeks flushing to my eternal embarrassment. Frank smiled real big, seeing the look on my face, and motioned at the empty seat between us,

"Sure buddy, mi table es tu table."

He sat, nodding his thanks.

"My name's Bob."

Frank, manwhore that he was, leaned in real close to introduce himself. Mentioning me with a dismissive wave of fingerless-gloved hand. Bob smiled at him before turning his gaze on me,

"Hello, Mikey. You're in band, aren't you?" I nodded, trying to concentrate on my food, it didn't work very well. "Nice ears, they look so real."

I flushed again and had to fight the urge to flatten them back against my head, but years of practice at hiding even the smallest of twitches had conditioned them well. Bob spent the rest of lunch pretending to have a conversation with Frankie, but I could tell his attention was focused almost fully on me.

I seriously didn't know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Kitty – Chapter 3

"Y'know he totally has the hots for you."

I nearly fell off the wall,

"W-what do you mean?"

I knew what he meant, Bryar. That's the only guy in this school who even looked twice at me, well maybe three time what with the whole double-takes people always did when they noticed that the weird kid was wearing ears. But Bob, he didn't just look thrice, no he _stared_. Constantly.

He sat a couple seats behind me and to the left in government, and I could practically feel those blue orbs burn holes into my ears. It made me want to slink away and take a bath or something, I don't know.

Frank and I were ditching last period P.E. to sit on that low wall and, in Frankie's case, smoke. I would have just gone straight home, but he said it was boring to skip by himself, so there I was, trying in vain to feign ignorance.

Frank just gave me this look before blowing smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Don't play dumb, man. An uber hot guy wants your ass and you just act all weird-loner-I-don't-need-no-man, so not helpful in the whole loss of virginity campaign."

My face burned and I regretted ever telling Frank of my lack of action. I mumbled at my shoes,

"He's just kinda creepy, always staring at me…" It was a weak excuse, we both knew it.

"Fuck, man. Just stop the ice-front and everything can be all hunky-dory."

I sighed, hopping off the wall,

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it, see you later Frankie."

He just huffed and lit up another cancer stick, waving me away.

I don't like wearing clothes, they feel scratchy and I get tired of poking holes in things. It's so much more comfortable to just walk around in bare skin. Of course I couldn't do that any other place than my room, so I tended to spend a lot of time there. When I ventured forth from my little sanctuary I wore the bare minimum required by the rest of the family, most of the time it was just a pair of boxers; but if we had company over or something I had to put pants on, the tail thing y'know.

I was wearing pants now, 'cause I was thirsty and the milk was all the way in the kitchen, plus Patrick was over. Patrick liked to hang out with my brother in the basement, and by 'hang out' I mean have raunchy sex. He was an okay guy though, but he seemed to think I had the same weird obsession with hats he did. I wore them out of necessity, Patrick basically worshiped them; dude was strange. But I guess that's why Gee went for him, he was nice to me anyway.

"Hey Mikes, how's it goin'? Is that a new cap? I like it." I nearly jumped outta my skin, sputtering strawberry milk all over the neatly wrapped left-overs in the fridge.

I glared at Patrick over my shoulder, none too happy with making a mess of myself, licking a couple pink drops off my wrist.

Patrick looked decidedly sexed, his clothes were mussed and his hat was askew, not mention the fucking annoying _glow_. He was always a little hyper after being with Gee, hence the over-excitement about my purple beanie. (which _was_ new, I guess it was kinda nice of him to notice…maybe)

"Hello…"

He nodded, like I had said something he couldn't help but agree with, before starting to riffle through our snack cupboard. My sensitive nose kinda twitched as I caught a whiff from Gerard's basement, that could also explain the talkativeness.

I know why I was avoiding Bryar, it wasn't 'cause he was creepy or stalkerish or anything, I actually thought all the attention was kinda sweet. No, I was just scared.

Scared of what would happen if we did start anything and then he found out that I was real, I mean that _everything_ about me was real. Afraid of the look he would give me, the disgust and pity, mostly the pity. I could handle people being grossed out by me, just not them being all sorry about it, like if they could change me they would…that they assumed I'd want to be _fixed_.

So, I didn't know how to react when I started getting the notes in my locker. They started out as almost-buried post-it's that I only noticed 'cause they were fucking neon pink, orange, green, or blue. Written on with ultra-fine tip Sharpie, things like:

_Hi, Mikey. I think you're pretty.  
>Really.<br>I'm not usually this creepy._

Some wouldn't even have words on them, a few had little doodles of kittens playing with yarn or curled up sleeping.

Eventually, they progressed into full-blow pieces of paper, with tiny rhymes lining the edges and sketches in the center. They were a bit imperfect, the drawings, but hey I had grown up with _my brother the artist_ so I tended to get a little judgmental. It didn't stop the shit from melting my heart a little more every time I open my locker to see a fresh ode lying neatly on top of my stack of books.

Meanwhile, he kept eating lunch with us, making no mention of the notes. But always offering me some of his goldfish crackers and somehow ending up with an extra milk everyday; which he gave me with a shrug and nearly-disguised twinkle in his blue eyes.

I would of course blush and spend the whole hour staring at the table, trying desperately not to jump him.

Frank was almost unbearable, seemed to take it on as his personal mission to squish Bob and I together and force some boy-love. Not literally of course, well it was Frankie, so yeah maybe. I guess it shouldn't have been such a surprise when it wasn't really him waiting for me at the dollar theater, well not _just_ him.

"Mikeyway!" I cringed, escape impossible now that the little prick had spotted me. I barely prevented myself from crashing to the ground when he took a flying leap at me, of course assuming I could catch him.

I pushed him away when I regained my balance,

"Frank…" he had that look in his eye, the one that boded no good for any caught in it's maniacal clutches. He put a hand over my mouth, forcing us to walk towards the theater entrance and the blond boy slouching against it grimy wall.

"I know, I know, bad Frankie. But the guy is so in to you man, I couldn't help myself." he paused to give me a once over, "Well, at least you look descent, I could have made you better, but that would have spoiled the secret, so I'll be grateful you can dress yourself mostly in the hot factor. Though, dude," here he eyed my baggy pants with distaste, "after this we seriously need to get you some new jeans, something tighter…_a lot_ tighter."

I didn't bother trying to explain why I couldn't wear tight stuff, that would have given the whole thing away; and as much as he annoyed me, Frank was my best friend and I didn't want to loose that.

I didn't have time to protest anyway, 'cause by then we had reached Bob and Frank was bouncing next to us. Like some sort of cupid on crack.

"Okay, okay you guys stay here and see a movie, get some kissin' in and all that shit. I'll be standing guard out here Mikey, so no running off or you know what'll happen." he attempted to look threatening, but it didn't work out too well. He forced ticket stubs into my hand and stepped back, shoeing at us to get inside.

Bob looked up from the sidewalk, giving me a ghost of a smile, and I couldn't help but follow him into the building to see whatever old movie the stubs were for.


	4. Chapter 4

Kitty – Chapter 4

Bob led the way through the small, dark lobby, pausing to buy a strawberry slushy (have I mentioned how much I love strawberry anything?) and a little baggie of goldfish; tiny smile tugging at his lips.

I was too preoccupied with trying not to panic about how I was possibly going survive this…date, with secrets intact, to buy anything; or accept any offerings (though I wouldn't deny a sip of that drink, if he asked) I just followed him through the wide hallways and into the dimly lit theater, handing over our tickets for tearing at some point.

The room was a pretty good size for being a dollar theater that never played new releases, only random older films. Sometimes it had marathons, but mostly it was just random jumbles of movies from all eras.

Bob led the way up to the balcony, sitting just off center, which made me want to twitch. I sat three seats to the right of him, in the middle of the row. He raised an eyebrow and moved over until he was sitting right next to me, holding up his slushy.

I chose to ignore the smirk he gave as I took it and sucked on the straw for a few seconds, pulling back quick enough that he didn't get any funny ideas, or too close a look at my ears.

The theater was almost empty, the balcony was deserted anyway, I could see a few people interspersed in the sea of bourbon-colored chairs below. The reason made itself apparent when the thing started, trust Frankie to pick some obscure foreign film that made you read subtitles if you wanted to fully understand the plot. And not even one in a semi-familiar language, like French or Italian, no it was in like Russian or Hungarian or some shit.

"Oh, I love this movie." Bob spoke, breaking into my thoughts

I turn my head to look at him, he's wasn't the only one who could raise eyebrows here.

"Kontroll," he said, voice quietly excited, eyes shinning even in the dimness of the theater. "It's so…_dark_."

And it was, I soon found myself sucked into the plot, barely caring that I had to read the stupid subtitles. 'Cause _fuck_, people were being shoved in front of trains and nobody _cared_. The people were so apathetic and numb to the world, the ticket checkers were so caught up in their own depressing lives; that working for hours in that sunless, florescent-lit world was slowly making them all insane.

But soon the drone of unfamiliar tongue was lolling me into a haze, and I was relaxing past the safety level I knew I should keep. My eyes were slits as I just slumped down in my cushy chair (maybe a little further in Bob's direction than necessary) just absorbing the film and sounds and wanting bad to be petted…

It took a few moments to realize that it _was_ happening, that Bob had removed my knit cap and his fingers were running through my hair and around my ears; that I was fucking _humming_ deep in my throat and unable to stop myself from leaning further into his touch.

It was like I was in a trance or something, drawn down into a sea of hazy-flowing wonder, filled with the sensations of Bob's fingers threading and rubbing and the cool press of slushy-cold lips against my throat.

Suddenly, the knowledge that the blond boy had found out my secret crashed around, swirling inside along with the need to keep that touch, because _shit_ his kisses tasted like strawberries and they were so slow and sensual. Making me feel like I was the only guy left in the world and that Bob only existed to make me feel so good, and wanted, and beautiful…

The need to preserve my few remaining secrets eventually won and I pulled away, out of the kiss and ducking away from those wonderful hands. Franticly searching for my hat and pulling it roughly over hair, only one ear making it through a hole; but I was too afraid to care.

'Cause what kind of guy would want a freak like me?'

I looked up at Bob, eyes probably giving away a lot more than I wanted them to.

"B-Bob, I- um," the other boy had a lazy smile on his face, pink flash of tongue flicking out to lick at the corner of his red-stained lips.

The movement made me want to bolt, or tackle the guy and beg him to _please take me now_…

I chose the first option. Muttering a lame, probably unintelligible excuse. Edging my way out of the isle and almost tripping down the stairs in the dark, credits just starting to roll.

Bob made no move to stop me, why should he?

I think I'll just go home and die now, or pig out on the Cherry Garcia I know is hidden in the very back of the freezer behind the frozen peas.


	5. Chapter 5

Kitty – Chapter 5

For the record, Frank was _not_ standing guard outside the theater, he was probably off being a spaz in some over-crowded place, scaring old ladies or something. But Gee and Patrick _were_ making out on the couch when I walked in the door, and that was not something I needed to see, thank you very much.

They barely took notice of my presence as I made my way to the back of the house (with a pit stop in the kitchen) and my room; stripping out of bothersome clothes on the way. I collapsed on my bed in a less than graceful manner, wrinkling my neat covers and not caring. My tail swished from side to side, free from it awful denim prison, as I licked bits of cherry and frozen goodness off a spoon.

I couldn't concentrate on the ice cream though, good as it was, my mind kept going back to that kiss. And how it had felt so good and Bob didn't seem _that_ put out about the ears, might have liked them even. At least I could imagine it that way, 'cause he had stroked them so nice, like he knew just how to make me melt with the tiniest of caresses.

My eyes snapped open, 'cause hello, I was rubbing against my bed and sucking on that spoon like it was my only tie to this world.

I flipped over on my back, setting the little tub of Ben and Jerry's on the nightstand. Glaring down at my dick like it was an enemy, because it kind of was. Here I was trying to be emo and self-deprecating when it goes and decides it's a good time to get happy.

Just 'cause Bob's lips felt so good and he seemed to really be into me and maybe I wasn't as freaky as I thought…mostly his lips though, they were nice and I wanted to feel them again.

I stopped glaring and gave in to my needs, it was fast and as quiet as I could make it. Flashes of blue eyes and blond hair passed behind my closed lids, squeezed tight against the act. I hated doing this, it was messy and unsatisfying, except for that one tiny moment at the end when all was bliss and rightness.

There was another note in my locker on Monday, this one was on a piece of printer paper, and looked like the drawing had been worked on for hours. I could feel my cheeks flooding with heat, and I stuffed it quickly in my hoodie pocket.

Bob really was getting better at the whole sketching thing. The picture was of me, stretching out on a couch, wearing nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans. I seemed to be looking out with nothing less than lusty-need, though how he had managed to get so much emotion and such a good representation without me even being there to model for him was a mystery.

I noticed a word in the very bottom hand corner of the page the next time I took it out (between classes, in the boy's bathroom) that made me blush worse, if that were possible.

_Beautiful._

Okay, so maybe Bob did like me, maybe he was able to overlook the whole cat thing. But really, how could I face him again after running off like that?

That's right, I couldn't.

I decided to take the rest of the day off, Bob was in my next class and I just couldn't deal with it. Gee should be at work, same with mom and dad, so I'd have the whole house to myself for at least a few hours. Which meant I could be naked in more than my room for a while, that thought lifted my spirits and I broke a couple speeding laws on the way home.

I was zoning out on the couch (nude, 'cause that's really the only way to do it) not paying attention to the movie flickering on the television , when the doorbell rang.

Like an idiot, numbed by t.v. and not thinking clearly, I got up to answer it. Not realizing I was still naked until the door was already an inch open. I quickly hid behind it, head poking around to see who was there.

Yeah, I'm not gonna deny I squeaked when I saw Bob on my doorstep. My ears fell back, not that it mattered, he already knew they were real; but seriously, I was naked!

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" real smooth Mikey, that'll make you seem witty.

But Bob smiled, flicking up his big-ass shades so that they rested on top of his head.

"Shouldn't you?"

I really didn't have an answer for that, so I went with another question.

"How do you know where I live?"

He smirked, and I really wanted to kiss it off his face, asshole.

"Frankie told me, can I come in?"

I was about to nod, then remembered certain _things_

"Um, yeah. J-just let me go put some pants on…"

"Oh, I don't mind." and before I could do anything to prevent him, the door was pushed open and he was inside, eyeing my nakedness up and down.

"BOB!" I barely had time to cover my private bits. My pale skin was quickly turning pink and my tail curled itself around my left ankle. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see the disgust on his face; tears burning behind my closed lids, threatening to fall any second.

"_Mikey_…" his voice was too soft, too kind and filled with things I didn't dare hope for.

Then there was a hand trailing it's way down my side and brushing over where my tail was wrapped around my ankle. I opened one eye, all kinds of shocked to find Bob was down on his knees, one hand running over my tail, the other gripping my hip, thumb rubbing small circles.

His blue eyes were shining and filled with such want, I felt things stirring under my hands.

My tail, traitor that it was, uncurled from my ankle and wrapped itself around Bob's wrist. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning when he brought it up to his lips, kiss-lick-kissing. He looked up with hot, blue eyes, cheeks flushed and smirk hidden so well behind that smile. I couldn't stand it anymore and fell to my knees, pressing a hungry kiss, hands tangling in his blond locks.

He kissed back, pulling so that he was laying on the floor with me in his lap, straddling his waist. Suddenly I didn't care that I was naked and he wasn't, that I was a freak; 'cause Bob Bryar was sucking on my tongue and rubbing behind my ears and stroking the length of my tail.

I no longer held the desire to kill Frankie in the most painful way imaginable, more like buy him a carrot cake muffin or something.

"Mikey, Mikey baby, you're so beautiful." Bob panted into my neck, hands running all over, and I found it wasn't so hard to believe him.

I tugged at his black shirt, wanting to taste more skin.

"Let's go to your room."

I whined, wanting nothing more than for him to ravish me right here, right now. 'Cause, you know, this could all just be a cruel, cruel dream.

Bob chuckled, sweeping me up in his arms and telling me to point the way. He dumped me on my nice, neat bed, just looking down at me. I felt the blush returning and my tail twitched with the need to be touched, not just stared at.

Then he swooped down, straddling me now, peppering kissed all over and making me giggle.

"So, so pretty." he whispered in that deep ear-happy voice, suckling on a nipple, causing me to arch up and hum in pleasure.

"Bob, Bob," he looked up, not stopping his lick-nip-kissing, "Touch me _please_, I need you to touch me."

And there was that smirk again, but I didn't fucking care, because there was his hand and it was so good. I couldn't hold back the moans any longer, or stand the fact that he still had fucking _clothes_ on. I reached down and pulled at his shirt, the black fabric sliding easily off.

I pushed at Bob so that he sat back and I could sit in his lap again, could lavish at all the new skin; grind up into his hand as I sucked on his collarbone.

The noses he gave were like the best kind of music, deep and rough, smooth and vibrating up through my lips and strait down to my cock. I pushed at his jeans, forcing them past his hips and as far down his legs as I was able; so I could rub against his heat. Could feel how I made him react, maybe make this whole thing seem real and not the best wet-dream in history.

"Mikey, Mikey, _Mikey_, I'm gon-gonna come." fuck, so was I.

I pressed another scorching kiss to try and distract myself, but it just pushed me over that proverbial edge; hots spurts making Bob's hand wet and sticky. I curled up, crying out my pleasure.

As soon I as regained use of my motor skills, both hands shot down to help Bob along, needing to see his face as he came. Wanting so fucking bad to know I could bring that on.

And shit was it a wonderful expression, eyes tight shut and mouth hanging open in the filthiest way, cheeks flushed with desire; I committed it to the pile of most-remember-forever images in the back of my mind.

We were both so sweaty and sticky and messy, as much as I wanted to just fall back and sleep, I couldn't just leave us that way. I knew I would regret it, couldn't stand being dirty for any amount of time. So, I helped Bob off with the rest of his clothes and led him to the bathroom.

Strange how things had gone so fast, one minute I was being all emo on the couch and wondering how the fuck I was going to ever be able to face Bob again. And the next, I was running a warm washcloth over his stomach and hand (careful to pay special attention to each finger). It was kind of nice, I wasn't as scared as I thought I would be.

After I got us cleaned up, I pulled Bob back down on the bed, curling around him in a very cat-like manner, tail wrapping itself around his ankle.

"Nap time."

He chuckled, scratching behind my ears, my head on his chest.

And yeah, I was humming again, you would too if you could feel the way I did right then.


	6. Chapter 6

Kitty – Chapter 6

Bob was pretty comfy to sleep on, he didn't snore or anything, and he smelled good too; like lemons. I nuzzled in to his neck, tail coming up to lay across us both, smiling when I felt his fingers trailing along it.

I was so content, I barely noticed that Bob was in fact _talking_ to someone, someone that wasn't me.

I cracked open an eye, peering over Bob's shoulder to see Gee, right ankle on left knee, sketch pad laying across the makeshift table. He was tapping a, very familiar, pair of sunglasses on the corner of the book and almost-maybe glaring at Bob.

"Um…hey Gerard?" my tail curled tighter around the body in front of me.

"Mikey." he nodded, eyes flicking to me then back at Bob.

I sensed no good could come of that look.

"T-this is Bob, he ah-"

"Oh, I know. He told me," his eyes never leaving Bob's, "and hey, _Bob_?"

"Yeah?"

"If you hurt even one hair on my sweet, baby brother's head, I will kill and eat you." his smile looked more like bared teeth than merriment, "Not necessarily in that order."

"Okay." I gotta give him credit, I would have been scared shitless by that look; If Gee were directing it at me.

My brother nodded, ripped off the top page in his sketch book and folded it up, setting it on the nightstand; sunglasses neatly on top.

"Well, Pat should be here any minute." he said, standing up and brushing charcoal darkened fingers off on his pants. "Mom and dad will be gone all week for business, so I expect you both at dinner."

Then he flounced, yes _flounced_, out; not-really-but-almost slamming the door.

"Well, I think that went well…?" I snuggled into Bob's side, licking his shoulder.

"Don't mind Gee, he's like that with everybody." Bob shrugged, untangling my messy hair with his fingers.

This was surprisingly not as awkward as it should be. Bob seemed perfectly fine with just laying there naked with me, not even doing anything; just lounging around. He did ask once if we were ever gonna get dressed, I had blushed 'cause I kinda forgot that normal people don't spend the day naked. But then he kissed my nose and all other thoughts flew right out the window.

The sketch Gee did was, of course, the most beautiful thing ever. It was soft and filled with the kind of detail that makes emotions rise up, 'cause you could feel the fucking _love_. It also didn't hurt that Bob looked very good naked, even if it was a bit creepy for my brother to be drawing us nude and cuddly.

I had to put pants, and a hat, on eventually though; what with Patrick being over and all. Bob got dressed too, something that made me sad. He let me brush his hair, as I sat in his lap, listening to some random band that really didn't matter 'cause Bob had my full attention.

It was kinda like he had me under a spell, one that suddenly made me the most clingy, love-sick kittyboy in the world. I shouldn't be this attached so soon to a person, this type of thing was supposed to happen over a long period of time; not after half a date and some quick, spur of the moment boylove.

I let Bob pick out my hat, shamelessly staring at his ass as he bent over my hat drawer (yes I have a hat drawer, it keeps things organized).

"Here, this one will bring out your pretty hazel eyes."

I took the green knit cap, cheeks probably tinged pink.

"Thanks." he smiled, kissing the side of my mouth and running a hand down my side, making gooseflesh arise.

Patrick and Gerard were both at the table already, riffling through many white cartons of Chinese food. The smell made my stomach growl and I pulled Bob over to a couple vacant chairs.

"Hi Mikey, is this Bob?" Patrick asked, I nodded, glaring at my brother over a box of sweet and sour something.

Gee just smiled, pecking his boyfriend on the cheek and feeding him a snow pea. It didn't distract him very well though, and Patrick was soon asking questions again; ones Bob answered in his quiet voice. He had scooted his chair closer to mine, rubbing my thigh under the table.

The doorbell interrupted the talk about half and hour later, and I jumped to go answer. Anything to get away from Gee's creepy smile and Patrick's, only slightly less creepy, questions.

I did not expect to see Frank on the other end of that annoying jingle.

"Mikeyway!" I was also not prepared for the more-tackle-than-hug that had me on the floor in front of the open door.

Frankie had this smug look on his face as he eyed me up and down from his place on my stomach.

"Is that a hickey, Mikeykins? Did my clever plan work? I bet it did, I so gave Bob your address so he could come here and sex you up. It worked, didn't it?" I pushed him off me, climbing back to my feet.

"Shut up Frankie," he glared, following me up, hands on hips.

I broke after about three seconds of that look, I had no constitution when it came to Frank's looks.

"Okay fine, so maybe he came over," I huffed, staring off to the right, "and maybe I was naked when he showed up," Frank grinned, I saw it out of the corner of my eye.

"And…?" I huffed again, shifting my gaze to the other wall, mumbling under my breath.

"What was that? Couldn't quite hear you?"

"I said, 'none of your damn business.'" he glared again, but it was hidden behind a perverted gleam, "Come in, if you want some take out."

It was more to distract Patrick, bring in new people and his attention shifted quite suddenly, than a thank you. But he could think what he wanted. Frank followed me to the table and commandeered the chow mien box from my brother's hand and digging into it with his fingers.

"I'm staying over Mikeyway," Frank announced, bursting into my room.

I had been under the impression the little prick had left already, hence why my hands were down Bob's pants and I was sans clothing already. I tried to hide behind Bob, but it was no use.

"Dude, is that a _tail_?" his eyes were wide and I cringed, gripping at Bob's upper arm.

"That is so fucking cool!" Frank dashed around my cover, trying to get a better look. I dodged him though, and we ran a few circuits around Bob before he grabbed us both by the neck.

"Stop, you're making me dizzy."

"But-"

"No, Frank. You can't touch him."

"_But_-" he flailed his arms around

"No."

I latched on to Bob's side, smiling into his shoulder.

Frank pouted, but it was useless, Bob was impervious.

"Fine, be that way. But I'm still staying over." he crossed his arms,

I rolled my eyes,

"Then go sleep on the couch, Frankie." I seriously wanted to be alone with Bob right now, reward him for resisting the short boy and his pouts of doom.

"Fine, I will." he sniffed, stalking to the still-open door, turning around at the last second, "But I'll be _naked_, just so you know."

Whatever, it was his fault if he got perved on by my brother and his boyfriend. Frank really had to work on his revenge techniques, 'cause seriously, that couch has seen more naked flesh than I care to think about.

Bob pulled me down on the bed, door safely closed once more, tucking me against his side. I twirled a finger around his nipple, sighing,

"What is it baby?" he asked, rubbing behind my ear,

Damn my low self esteem, the day had been going to well. A safe little bubble where we could both live, forever happy and nude. But everything had caught up with me, and I realized that the outside world still existed and that maybe Bob was just using me, like Gee probably thought.

I'd hate that. Beyond hate, really, a deep loathing that would eat away at me until I was nothing more than a bloody heap at the bottom of a bathtub.

I need to stop thinking like that.

"Why are you here, Bob?" I couldn't look at him, not while I was ruining the best thing that had ever happened to me.

"Seriously?" I nodded, still tracing with my fingers, he was quiet for a few seconds.

"Well, I don't know…"

"O-oh." the breath caught in my throat, and I had a hard time holding back the tears.

Then a hand was trailing down my side, kneading at my hip and petting my hair with the other.

"But, I'll tell you what I think." his vice was quiet and soft, relaxing me with just the vibrations of it through his chest.

"I think I really like you Mikey. That you put up this shy, standoffish front, but under it there's the sweetest guy I've ever known. That even though I only met you a few weeks ago, I feel like I've know you all my life. You've barely said three words to me in all that time, but I see how you react to the things I do. And that you really are just trying to protect yourself, and you have no idea how awesomely happy I feel right now, that you let me though that door."

"You kinda barged in." was all I could manage, hiding my face in his shoulder again.

But he lifted it up, smiled and kissing the tears from the corner of each eye; before laying a soft, chaste one on my lips.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me to leave." his eyes were bright and shining, "You could have, and I would've gone. But you didn't." another, deeper kiss,

"That's why I'm here Mikey Way."

I smiled up at him, snuggling further into his side.

"I'm glad you are, Bob."

He smirked, the hand on my hip moving to squeeze my ass,

"Plus you're uber hot."

I squeaked, smacking his arm, but I was still smiling; probably wouldn't stop for a long time.

The next morning, breakfast could have been more awkward, but not by much. Frank was sitting (naked) in a chair at the table, eating my Fruity Pebbles. That I could handle, considering I had Bob next to me and the box of cereal was basically still full. But, Frankie, once more proving the extent of his manwhoreness, was sitting between my brother and Patrick. Looking decidedly sexed and being fed alternating spoonfuls of multicolored, soggy mush by both of them.

Yeah, not the image I needed to see second thing in the morning, first being naked Bob so that was good. But still, I could barely hold down my own bowl of sugar flakes.

It fell on me to drive us to school, and to pry the new toy away from the perverted hands of my brother and his boyfriend (with lots of struggling on Frankie's part). It was even harder to get him dressed again, I think the boy liked being naked more than I did.

I got everything sorted out eventually though, Frank forcibly buckled in or not, and drove us out. There was a beat up old Jeep in the driveway, that I assumed was Bob's, and it made me smile. I now had an excuse to bring him back here, not that I needed one, but still.

I think things are gonna turn out all right for me, or at least not as lonely as I thought they would be. Bob's warm hand on my thigh as I drove no small indicator.

"Aw man, Mikey, I fucking _love_ your house." Frank piped up from the back seat.


End file.
